


One Step Closer

by Caroline



Category: Metallica, Professional Wrestling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caroline/pseuds/Caroline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends just love to interfere don't they?</p><p> </p><p>Original Summary - Friends playing matchmaker for other friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing, I'm claiming nothing. No disrespect or infringement is intended. This is a piece of fan fiction and should be treated as such.
> 
> Timelines have been tweaked for the purposes of this fic.
> 
> Please note - this was originally written close on 10 years ago and I know it shows.

 

 

****JH****

"But James..."

"No Kirk." I know he's my friend, and was my sometime lover, but that whine just sets my back teeth on edge, even more so due to the slight distortion caused by the phone line.

"Please James, I want you to meet Scott and this is an important night for him--"

"All the more reason for me not to be there."

"James, please, I need you there." The desperation, which is beginning to leak into his voice, makes me hesitate. For all the strength he now has, he still has problems with people he doesn't know. And he knows I know this, it's his trump card. I won't say he plays it on purpose, he's not that manipulative, but it comes up a lot when he wants to get me somewhere.

"Okay I'll come. But you gotta know I'm not happy about this, if this Scott guy can't look after you...." I let the sentence drift off; not at all surprised at the hiss of anger I can hear on the other end of the line. It's not the first time I've played this game and it won't be the last, Kirk's just too easy over this. He rises to the bait like a well-trained trout.

"That was fucking uncalled for." Kirk's certainly grown a set in recent months; there was a time when he wouldn't have dreamed of biting back. It's good to see, and I'll be the first to admit that Scott's done him the world of good, brought him out of himself that little bit more, taken him the final few steps we couldn't.

"Yes, well that's what you get for hanging around with muscle bound idiots." I barley manage to the keep the smile out of my voice, and growl in it, when saying that. I get way too much enjoyment out of baiting Kirk with this. It's fun just to watch, or in this case, hear him hop.

"Fucking, bastard. I'm not doing this with you again, James. Just be ready when I pick you up tomorrow afternoon." Kirk hangs up without waiting for a reply, for all the goading he knows once I've said I'll do something I don't back out, though I have this uncomfortable feeling I'm going to be wishing I hadn't agreed to this.

Coming out of rehab, it was a shock to find Kirk involved with a pro-wrestler, seriously involved in fact. Listening to him go on and on about Scott, and hearing Lars say how good Scott was for him, was almost enough to make me retreat back in to the safety of the clinic.

The little shit reckons I'm jealous. I'm not, or not in the way he means, or I don't think I am. It's more that Kirk couldn't take what he needed from our family, from 'Tallica. I know I haven't been much help to anyone, not even myself recently, but it hurt in ways that I can't really explain that it was someone outside, someone who's not part of us. But if Scott is whom he needs, who am I to stand in the way? I'm just some fucked up broken down old musician.

****KH*****

"Damn the man."

He does this every time, every single bloody time. I know it's not done maliciously it's just done for the entertainment value. But even if he doesn't believe it, or rather doesn't think he believes it, I can hear that tiny grain of what he feels to be the truth in his voice. He accepts my relationship with Scott, supports it even, to a point. I don't think he even realises that he has any problems with it. But I've known James Hetfield way too long not to know when he's hurting. Not to know that he feels as though he's losing something. Not to know how scared he is.

The smell of herb tea jolts me out of my thoughts, making me smile up at man handing me the cup. I still don't know how I lucked out like this. I must have done something right in another life. Scott sinks into the armchair opposite, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of his coffee mug. The gentle concern I can see there mixes with something else just below the surface. It has me wanting him fucking me hard over the nearest piece of available furniture.

"How'd it go?" Scott nods towards that telephone indicating my conversation with James.

"He agreed to come, but it's still the same old shit." My anger at the man, who'd up until very recently had been the most important person in my life, is still very much around the edges of my thoughts.

"Come here, Chico." Scott's accent goes from his normal speaking voice to oily fake Cuban one he uses in the ring, the one that turns me into a puddle. Putting my tea down beside his coffee, I crawl into Scott's lap, his arms coming round me as I bury my head in his neck trying to drown my senses with him. I feel so safe and secure here, even though I know I don't need that kind of looking after these days. What I need is his strength, to know he'll catch me if I fall. And he will.

I don't need protecting from the outside world these days, Jase saw to that when he left and I had no one to shield me, I had no choice be to do it for myself. James was in no state, and Lars was dealing with his own problems, what he perceived as Met falling apart. I had no choice but to grow up.

"If you know he's only doing it to wind you up, why'd you let it get to you like that?" I can feel Scott's words vibrate through me his hand sliding round to tease my ass as he talks. Care and sex it's a lethal combination and I love him dearly for it.

"Because he does it...." I can hear the frustration in my voice ".... because even though he doesn't realise it, I think deep down he believes some of it. Because I also know that he's hurting because of us." And that frustrates me even more to know that I'm hurting someone I care about however unintentionally.

"Do you really think mixing him with Kev is such a good idea then?" I understand his concern, it's the same protective instinct I have for James. Neither of us wants them hurting.

"Yeah I do. But that's not what this is about, if they hit it off, they hit it off. If they don't, they don't. This is about you, this is your night and we're just along for the ride." I can feel him squirming beneath me slightly, enough to know he's embarrassed. It's cute.

Kev and I don't go much beyond polite, and I don't know him well enough to say if I actually like him. He always gives the impression he don't care too much for me either. I only know from chatting with Sean and Paul that it's more to do with Kev and Scott not being together anymore than it is to do with me. Scott doesn't need looking after anymore than I do. But there was a  
time that he did, and like Jase did for me, Kev protected Scott with everything he was. The only difference is that Kev and Scott were lovers. Jase and I weren't but that's Met's fucked up dynamics for you.

Scott's arms tighten round me as I shudder at the thought of him needing that kind of safekeeping and of how close both of us came to not being here to find each other.

"I'll give him muscle bound idiot." There's that anger again as I hear James' voice in my head saying words that aren't mine. Fucker. Scott's hand moves soothingly down my back before settling on my hip.

"Who's a muscle bound idiot?" Scott's tone is almost colourless, way too mild. Shit I wasn't aware that I'd said that out loud.

"Just James being an asshole." Trying to side step the question Hammett? That'd be a big old 'yes.'

"Chico, look at me...please." And there's that accent again, the slight hesitation turning the command into a request. Pulling away from him so that I sit up, and it makes me shiver a little as I loose the warmth of our contact. His eyes meet and hold mine, suddenly I'm not that cold anymore and I forget to breathe as I lose myself in his eyes. This shouldn't still be happening, should it?

"Kirk forget about James, we'll deal with it when we have to." A hand curls round my neck sliding through my hair, nails gently scratching as he brings our lips together.

****SH****

There's something almost exotic about Kirk's taste, sort of sweet with a bitter edge. A bit like the German chocolate that he's fond of. He's pressing against me as much as this awkward position will allow. You would not believe how fragile he feels, but that impression is so wrong. Kirk is anything but fragile. He's steel, tempered steel. Tempered the hard way. By the time we break the kiss we're both panting, I'm about to burst my zip, and I know Kirk's not far different.

Calloused fingertips brush my cheek as he reaches out to touch my face, almost as if he's not expecting me to be real. I know the feeling. I still can't believe that I have this man in my life. That he puts up with me. James isn't far wrong you know. I've got a bit more muscle than the average guy would have, goes with the job. And I've done enough stupid things in my life to know I'm well qualified for the term idiot. Kirk maybe one of the few sensible things I've done in recent years. Even if James, or Kev for that matter, doesn't think so.

I know that Kev's worried for me, scared that this is just some passing fancy for Kirk, something that'll send me over the edge again when the pretty rock star's finished playing.

But it's not like that, there's been a connection since the first time we met and you can well and truly blame Paul, Lemmy and Lars for that one. And even if it doesn't last, I will have had this time and it would be enough, 'cause at the end of the day if he needs to move on, I love him enough to let him go.

Even though he's touching me, I can't stop my mind playing back the images of that first meeting. Of the day that changed my life.

.......

Motorhead were over for some promo work for some anniversary shit or other. Lars had dragged Kirk from San Fran to catch up with Lemmy. Paul was about two-thirds the way through his rehabilitation for his quad and bored out of his mind. So Kev and I dropped in on him just as Lemmy dragged Motorhead over to see Paul with Lars and Kirk in tow. That was one hell of a weekend. If Paul wasn't planning on redecorating before we all came down he certainly was afterward.

I still find it strange going to parties, or going out with a crowd and not drinking. It isolates you from the group, however unintentional that maybe. Which is why I was standing in Paul's kitchen, OJ in hand, gazing out at his back yard not really seeing a thing and wishing Sean had been able to come down as well. Then at least I would have had some company.

"You Okay?" Turning I found myself looking down into eyes similar to my own, dark and slightly haunted.

"Yeah, it's just...." The words trailed off as I aimlessly waved a glass of orange about. He smiled and the shadows disappeared.

"Yeah I know..." holding up his own glass while wrinkling up his nose, which shouldn't have been as cute as it was ".... wine and soda, beer at the most and not that often." The muscles in his shoulders contracted slightly under the T-shirt he was wearing, as though he was stealing himself for something. Not something most people would notice, I only did because 'cause it's something that happens to me and something that Sean does. You don't mean to, it's simply that you can't be venerable to the knock that you know is coming. He held his hand out.

"Kirk, Kirk Hammett." There was just the tiniest amount of shake both in his voice and hand.

"Scott Hall." My hand almost swamped his but his grip was surprisingly strong. The feel of his hand in mine as we shake was complete contradiction. Tough where you'd expect soft, soft where you'd expect rough.

.........

"Scott." Kirk's face waves into view as my eyes refocus. He's laughing at me, again.

"Where were you?" That light chuckle in his voice does more to me that it ought too.

"Back at Paul's, meeting you. Watching your nose wrinkle up at the Spritzer you were drinking." He laughs outright this time, punching me lightly in the arm.

"My nose does not wrinkle up."

"Yes it does, babe." His laughter dies on a gasp as I drag my fingers up his sides, teasing at the sensitive spots just below his ribs, the touch as he likes it not hard enough for nails to drag, not light enough to tickle.

Then those lips are back at mine as he wriggles round so that he's almost sitting astride me as much as this chair allows. It's enough so that I can feel his hard cock pressing against mine, the sensation is enough to make everything but what I feel for him cease to exist.

The kiss breaks just as the feelings become too intense and it's my turn to bury my head in his neck, drawing the strength I need from him. This is what we have, this is what Kev can't see, this circle, this ring of support. I'm not stronger than Kirk; Kirk's not stronger than me. Yes I have strengths he doesn't, as does he have ones I don't, but neither of us needs the other more. It's balance and it's perfect.

****KN****

I know I've just been kicked in the shin cause that's where it hurts. I'm awake and Sean is wriggling around in his sleep. Moaning quietly, his dream obviously upsetting him. My hand goes out automatically to comfort him, but he settles the moment Paul rolls over and drops an arm across his shoulder bringing him close.

I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have stayed. Yeah it was a fun evening, and the sex was, as always, mind blowing. But I'm lying here like a third wheel, watching them snuggle. It hurts, it fucking hurts. I don't begrudge them being together, they've both come through so much to get where they are. They're my friends, my brothers. But seeing them like this twists the knife makes me realise that I'm on my own even in a group as close as we are.

Scott's even got his act together. I say even, that's a laugh; he was my lover, my partner and the person who needed me the most for the longest time. Yeah we've had relationships with people outside our little group, but we've always found our way back to each other. Not this time. That guitarist has him wrapped around his little finger, he shouts and Scott comes running. If it wasn't mutual, I'd be worried. But Kirk has it just as bad. Even though Scott thinks I don't see it. I do. And that's the real kicker because I know we never had what they've got.

So here I am reduced to sharing a three-way with Sean and Paul just to keep the loneliness at bay, the shadows from the door, and, for one night at least, the dreams away.

"Kev, you okay?" Sleepy hazel eyes look at me the concern in them like salt on an open wound. I shrug truthfully. There's nothing really wrong, but there's nothing really right either. It's as though I'm disconnected with myself for some reason, as though there's a piece missing that I can't quite put my finger on it.

"So what ya doing over there?" As Paul finishes the question there's some snuffling, a bit of wiggling, and dark eyes join the hazel ones staring at me. Again I'm shrugging 'cause there's no real answer 'cept that I felt out of place.

Where Paul's eyes are full of concern, Sean's simply show understanding and acceptance. His road has been a lot longer than Paul's, and with way too much Shawn in it.

"Just get you're ass over here, Nash...." A little sadness colours the smile he gives me as he lifts his arm. ".... and no arguing." Now that makes me smile, I know better than to even think about arguing with him. So I dutifully scoot over, Sean's arm settles round my waist and Paul's hand ends up on my the top of my arm. Paul, once settled, goes back to sleep almost instantly, leaving me looking down into brown eyes again.

"You'll get there Kev." Those softly spoken words holding the compassion and understanding that has brought Sean so much grief and pain in the past, from the one person who should have known not to take advantage, who should have known better. It's something I'll never forgive Shawn for.

"I know Kid, I do know. I just don't know how." I'm unable to stop the last word catching on the pain that suddenly lodges itself in my throat. His hand strokes soothingly up and down my side he doesn't say anything else he doesn't have to. After years of knowing each other his touch is comfort enough, the gentle motion of his hand drawing me back into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Part 2

****JH****

God only knows what I doing here, the trip over with Kirk was as uneventful as flying with him can be. The hotel's not bad as far as those things go. But we're currently walking across the parking lot of some stadium or other - in Milwaukee of all places.

"Kirk!" The voice belongs to a long lanky peace of nothing that I recognise as X-Pac. Yeah I know, guilty pleasures and all that. Though I haven't seen anything in I don't know how long, more interested in the bottom of a bottle, and then more interested in getting out of it.

As the two of them hug hello, Pac eyes me over Kirk's shoulder. There's something there I'm not sure I like at all. It gets my hackles up. In the old days I would have snarled and walked away. These days I bite my tongue and stand my ground.

"Sean Waltman, James Hetfield." Kirk's introduction seems to put whatever it was back in its place as Sean sticks out his hand and smiles. The guy has a good grip, though somewhat uneven. If I remember rightly he's damaged his neck more than once, which probably accounts for that.

"Pleased to meet you." Actually I am, surprisingly enough. Something must have come across as genuine 'cause I suddenly know how his smile should look.

"Same here. Come on lets get you guys settled before some of the more serious fans twig you're here." I can't quite stifle the snort that escapes at that comment. 'Serious fans' has to be the politest thing I've ever heard them called. Sean looks at me an eyebrow raised in question. I just grin at him I'm not getting into that. He turns to Kirk saying something close to his ear, which causes Kirk to shrug before quickly leading the way past security and up the corridor to the dressing rooms, stopping outside one with NWO on the door.

They're resurrecting that old gimmick? Why? What I have missed this time?

The door opens and Kirk is suddenly engulfed in a bear hug causing him to giggle slightly. I follow him in not sure I want to but not having much choice as Sean's sort of gently pushing me in rather than pushing past me. As dressing rooms go this one isn't any different from the ones we have on tour. Nothing special.

"James!" I turn my head at the voice and see a face I haven't seen in a several years.

"Terry! How you been?" One biker handshake and a quick hug later and I'm sitting next to the wrestler known as Hulk Hogan generally catching up on life, the universe and everything. Listening to him going on about his wife and kids, he's neatly avoiding several things, his drug use, court cases, and my alcohol problems, all for which I am eternally grateful. But it's good to hear he's doing well. Going back a long, long way; way back when before Terry ever got involved in this gig, we jammed a couple of times while he was still working on the docks. We've never really kept in touch but if we ever met in passing we always stopped and caught up on each other's lives. It's good to hear that people I knew before Met are doing okay, even if it is a lifetime and then some away.

Why'd you think I bitched Lars into allowing Seek and Destroy on that WCW album thingy? Terry got in touch with Elektra personally over it, and we were still refusing, or rather the dictator was. It wasn't until I saw Terry's name on the paper work that Lars found himself agreeing it. He still doesn't know why. The little fucker would have made all sorts of assumptions if I'd said anything. God, he can put two and two together and make six faster than Kirk can play Battery.

Kirk surreptitiously coughing grabs my attention, and looking up, I smile. He's sitting next to Scott with that semi-shocked look on his face he has when I do something he wasn't expecting. I suppose sitting and chatting with Terry would fall into that category.

"James, there's a couple of people here I want you to meet." I've known Kirk for going on twenty years, I know when he sounds nervous, and this is most defiantly one of those times. I still expect him to fidget and twitch a little when his voice has that edge to it. He doesn't, and for all the very slight tension to his voice, there's a depth that wasn't there not so long ago. It's the little things like that that bring it home just how much stronger he's become over the last six months or so. And while I don't really feel any envy of what he has with Scott, I can't deny the stab of pain through my guts, as though I've lost something even though I know that it didn't belong to me in the first place. So I bury it deep, look up, and smile encouragingly.

"Scott, there's someone I've wanted you to meet for a long time. James Hetfield, Scott Hall. Oh and the big blond over in the corner is Kevin Nash." I get up and stick out my paw towards Scott. Quietly wondering all of a sudden just what's going on here. His hand almost swamps mine but the grip is sure, not over powering, as I was half expecting it to be. After all I'm his lover's   
semi-abusive band mate and sometime ex-partner. He has every right to be trying to put me in my place. Why does the fact that he isn't make me feel like shit?

"Scott."

"James."

Talk about cautious.

"You and Terry?" Okay not cautious. I know what he's asking, but, Jesus Christ, personal much? It's only the chortle from the man in question behind me that stops me from giving Scott what for. How fucking dare he?

"You've gotta be kidding, man. When I knew James, believe me, he was not someone you'd wanna be doing that with. Aside from the fact he was jail-bait." Way to boost my ego Terry, but his laughter is infectious and wipes out the awkward atmosphere. The big blond in the corner gets up and lumbers over just as they get a five-minute warning. This time my hand is swamped by the handshake and there is some tightening of the grip. Though why he's testing me I don't know.

Sean's head pops round the door just as the grip gets to what I would consider dangerous. No I'm not backing down for this asshole.

"Kev, cut it out, we don't have time for your stupid posing. We need to get these guys up to their box." The pressure on my hand releases as the big guy glares over my head.

****KN****

God only knows why I felt the need to do that. If Scotty can accept him, why the hell did I feel the need to let him know where he stands? It's not like it's my problem, Kirk's Scott's partner. It's got nothing to do with me. I can't think about this now, I have much more important things to worry about.

Scott, Terry and I stand behind the curtain as Finkle winds the crowd up before show time giving the count down to live TV. I can feel the prickles start at the base of my spine as the noise winds up. Terry has his head bowed; hand round the smallest of the three crucifixes he's wearing. Even from here I can see it's shaking. Scott's bouncing gently on the balls of his feet beside me, muttering under his breath; basically I'd say the three of us are a mess.

"Two minutes guys." The floor manager's call comes across the back stage area. Terry looks up; Scott stops mid bounce going totally still, the colour washing out of his face. Suddenly I'm caught in a three-way hug that's over as quickly as it began. Our music hits, the white lights and muted strobes take over the lighting and the crowds opening roar turns deafening as we make our way out. I can feel the emotions' surfacing; it's all I can do for a few seconds not to bawl like a kid.

Stepping into the ring the noise level drops a little as I'm about to go into my opening spiel. About how we're not here to destroy anything, how we've been given a bad press and how glad we are to be given this chance. Scott leans over rests his head on my shoulder, his words of encouragement are low but I hear them. I need them. The crowd do what we expected and chant 'What' at the end of each line; it's almost unbelievable just how over Steve is. But the energy coming off them is still something else.

As Scott takes the mic the roar rises again, it takes him three attempts to speak, finally getting over his nerves and the crowd. With the first 'Hey yo' the electricity in here just stepped up a notch. His eyes lock on to a spot in the nose bleeds for a moment before he continues. Well not the nose bleeds, actually the directors box where he knows Kirk is drawing something from just knowing he's here. He then steps back into character and comes out with a bit about us being marks and 'fans just like you.' Yeah he's a mark, and a fan, but not for the wrestling game, not anymore, not for a long time. The only thing here that Scott is a mark for is Kirk.

Terry takes over and the place goes ballistic. I know he's glad of his dark glasses because if he didn't have them on you'd see the tears in his eyes. For him this is really coming home. For us, yeah, it's special and it's more than just a job, but our home isn't this ring, or even this company. It's our brothers. For Terry, his wife and kids are one half of him, the other half is right here, always was, whatever Bischoff liked to think.

****SW****

I really don't know what Kev was trying to pull back there; he doesn't usually try that shtick, not even if he thinks someone's a threat. That's usually my department. Kev's a big old softie when you really come down to it. Well at least until he's pushed that one step too far. Hurt someone he cares for, and God help you, as Shawn found out to his cost. Even now there's some residual bad feeling between the two of them.

Getting Kirk and James up to the directors box doesn't prove to be to much hassle, neither of them want to stop and James' glare combined with mine is enough to put even the Hardy's off. The monitors up here take both camera feeds so they can watch what actually goes on, as opposed to what the PPV viewers get to see. It's not that much different, the guys out in the truck know what they're doing, but there are something's the viewers just don't get to see.

As usual I hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on, I'd sat in on the rehearsals and the run throughs enough to know mostly what the boys were gonna say, both Scott and Kev will vary it a little to keep it fresh but not that much. So James' sudden hiss has me turning to the screen to see what the fuck is going on.

"Cool it James, it's part of their gimmick." Kirks voice is soft and reasonable, but in the last six months I've come to know when it's strained - and it's strained now. What did Scott just do? Kev goes through his bit; I keep a close eye both on what's going on in the ring, and on Kirk. The tension creeps up his back as Kev rattles on before handing the mic off to Scott. On the third attempt Scott gets his 'Hey yo' off, or that's what the PPV audience saw. What they didn't see is Scott hands talking to Kirk flashing a set of signs that tell him that Scott loves him, most of them understandable to any wrestling fan with any sense about them. I bite my tongue to stop from laughing; I didn't think forty-year-old guys blushed - or not that much. But then again most guys don't have boyfriends that tell them they love 'em in front of fifteen or sixteen thousand people.

I maybe biting my tongue, but James isn't though. His laughter rings though the box Kirk snorts and gives the singer a dead leg. That's gonna bruise badly. Yeah, I think Kirk's right James and Kev will work well together. James will never be dependant on him as Scott was. His strength maybe muted a bit at the moment, but you can see flashes of the guy that can hold arenas in the palm of his hand.

Scott's dependence on Kev almost sapped Kev's strength and killed his spark. But with Scott not needing him it's like his life has no purpose now. The relationship with Scott affected Kev just as bad as any of the drugs Scott or I took, and in the same way. It was as much of an addiction for him as the drugs were for us. He's still missing something, whether James is that something remains to be seen. But it'll be an interesting ride finding out I think.

****KH****

Fuck the man; I can't believe he just did that. What the hell is he playing at? God I love him. I can feel the heat in my cheeks and hear James laughter beside me. Okay maybe it was an odd way to tell me, but there's no need to be cackling quite as loud as that, James. I may not be able to do the glare, but I sure as hell can make you hobble for an hour or two. See James, yoga does have its uses. Even if it is just to make you shut the fuck up.

After Scott, Kev and Terry leave, I can't say I have much interest in what's going on, though James seems to be into it, cursing loudly when the main event doesn't go the way he wanted it to. Sean takes his leave after they finish the opening but pops back every now and then during the evening before hustling us back to the dressing room before the crowd finishes screaming for the last match, James isn't particularly amused by that I think he would have like to see the show through to the end.

Sean gets us back just as Kev is coming out of the shower, dripping wet, towel in hand and nothing on. You can almost hear James' jaw drop. Perfect timing Sean, just perfect; I couldn't have done better myself.

"For Christ's sake Sean, knocking would be nice." Sean's laughter has a gentle quality you wouldn't expect from someone as hyper as he can be; it's a little like Scott's. And somewhat like what James' should sound like but doesn't quite, not yet. It's getting there though, it's certainly better than it was just after he came out, but the hash quality hasn't quite left.

The door bursts open and another body is added to the already crowded space. Kev's trying not to be flustered as he dresses, watched avidly by the four of us plus the blond who's just wrapped himself round Sean, allowing Sean to relax for the first time that night.

"Hi Kirk."

"Paul, long time, no see, how's things?" Paul's smile lights his face up.

"Better, a lot better now I'm back." I nod my head I can understand that one. My own rehab wasn't as publicized as James' was but I know what it's like to be cut off from your family and that's what Paul's injury did, isolated him. That pain I can understand and then some, most of the people in this room can.

"What we all doin'?" Terry's question stops the murmurs of conversation going on short. After a little humming and haring we all agree that as Kev, Scott and Terry have a suite we can all go back there. None of us particularly want to go out and party. Though I know that Kev, Scott and Terry have all had been asked. But I know they, well I know Scott is coming down from tonight's high and isn't in the party mood as such. And there are some of us that shouldn't really be partying anyway.

Even James agrees without too much fuss, 'specially after he finds out that Scott booked us into the same hotel as them. What kind of idiot does he think Scott is? Book me somewhere he's not? I don't think so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Part 3

****JH****

Jesus, I could do with out seeing Kirk draped all over Scott. Fuck, do I need a drink. Sean and the blond who was eventually intro'd to me as Paul are curled up together on the other sofa doing things that would best be done in private. Or rather were doing, that is, until Kev tipped a glass of cold water over them and told them to behave.

Seeing Kev back at the arena dripping wet and relaxed from a shower, I didn't know where to look. If he'd have looked like Adonis or something, if he'd been perfect I would have looked and that would have been it. But he was real. Yeah his body is more toned than most forty odd year olds, but the signs of his age and his life showed. The scars on his knees, on his hands, on his forehead, the slight tum and the age around his face, the grey in his hair. He wasn't perfect, he was stunning and the sight of him standing there like that just sent something through me.

The thunk of a bottom E brings me back to the here and now. Terry's got his bass out and is messing around. Catching my eye he raises and eyebrow and I have to shake my head, neither nor I Kirk brought a guitar with us. I know Terry of old, he's not worried he'll just make a noise and sink into the background allowing things to on around him. I wish I could do that.

Kirk seems so much part of this group. Yeah, he's on the outside, a bit much like Bob and Randy are with us. But he's still part of the group, not the stranger, not the spare wheel.

I can't help but start when the sofa next to me dips and I find myself sitting next to the object of my thoughts a few moments ago.

"He's not bad, is he?" Kev indicates Terry who's sat quietly playing to himself, making me listen for a few moments. He's not bad, but he's nothing special. He's certainly no Jase. I say as much, which makes Kev smile. Fuck me, I could die in that smile. The evening just crawls by with me being more and more aware of the blond next to me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that he's moved a couple of millimetres closer so that our thighs are touching on purpose. Even though he's concentrating on a conversation between Sean and Paul about tonight and what the writers are proposing for the next couple of days.

Kirk's beginning to get fidgety he's starting to tease Scott. Slowly tracing his finger tips up the inside seam of Scott's jeans, just a centimetre at a time, but it's enough that Scott is starting to squirm. I doubt anyone else has even noticed. I do, because he's done it to me so many times in the past and because I needed something to distract me from Kev sitting so close. Every time the muscle in his thigh clenches I can feel it, it shouldn't be doing the things to me that it is. I'm currently thanking all the gods for the fact that I put a long t-shirt on, it covers a multitude of sins.

Kev suddenly stretches and yawns, talk about hammy but it gets the point across. Kirk's snickering into Scott's shoulder, so is Scott I would imagine, but his head is buried in Kirk's hair. Sean and Paul just laugh.

"Okay, okay I get the hint. Enough work. Paul's with me, we'll see you in the morning." Sean's laughter carries through his comment as he grabs Paul's hand and pulls him out the door.

As they start to leave, Kirk looks at me very pointedly causing me to him my best 'I don't have a clue' expression and then grin as he opens his mouth to say something. Winding him up a little. I don't want to listen to the sounds of him and Scott fucking, so they can have our room. I'll stay here. There's plenty of room on the couch, and it'll be less painful. Fishing our key out, I chuck it at him. The happy smile is worth it.

"Have my bed, I'm obviously not gonna be using it." Scott's rumble makes me jump slightly. I was miles away trying to tell my hard on to fuck off.

"'Kay thanks." And my back is truly grateful that I don't have to argue with the couch tonight.

****KN****

What is my attraction to this guy? There was just that little zing when we shook hands earlier, and when I actually got to look into his eyes. Damn. What the hell's going on here?

Yeah my thigh is pressed up against him on purpose, I wanna touch. And I want to get a reaction of some kind out of him. Something that tells me he's noticed.

As Kirk and Scott leave, Terry catches my eye and gets the hint quick.

"See ya round, James." He leans over quickly to give him a hug. I take his comment to mean he's away early tomorrow. I know he wants to get home briefly before we go into Raw. There's something about the easy way that James hugs him back I'm none to happy about. There's way too much familiarity there.

"How'd you know Terry?" He looks a little startled by the question. That might have been the edge on it though. Back off, Kev.

"Going back before either of us got anywhere, we'd jam occasionally. We met one night when I snuck in somewhere I shouldn't have been." The slight shudder that goes through him at the memory puzzles me.

"Bad memories?" The bark of laughter that gets isn't pleasant, and neither is the sudden coldness in his eyes. Okay Kev, stop pushing.

"How'd you get involved with this gig?"

I accept the subject change as he relaxes again. I tell him a little of my history, the official, and some of the non-official stuff. A little poking on my part gets some bits out of James, but he's really not all that talkative about his past.

The conversation eventually comes round to Scott and Kirk. Again James tenses slightly, but shakes it off.

"As long as Kirk's okay..." he shrugs. "It was odd coming back, and finding everything different somehow."

"Coming back?"

"Oh, the rehab thing." He dismisses the comment as unimportant with a wave of his hand.

Okay which planet have I been on? James Hetfield was in rehab? What the fuck?

"It doesn't bother you that Scott's with Kirk?"

I don't know why I'm knocked sideways by that question, I should have known it was coming.

"Not really I suppose, we haven't been together as such for a while but it's still...I don't know, I suppose odd is the best way to describe it."

He nods.

"Yeah I know. Kirk and I had an on and off thing for so long that to suddenly find he's not part of that part of my life anymore is strange. Not that I resent what he's got with Scott. It's just...." he trails off as though finding difficulty with the words. But I know exactly what he means.

"Exactly." I know that some emotion leaked into that word, I just hope it wasn't the pain I'm still feeling.

"You and Scott?" James' eyebrows have just hit his hairline. Which is actually quite cute. That one took a while to sink in, didn't it? But I don't know why he's surprised, good grief, we couldn't have been more obvious about it if we tried.

"Yeah, but not since he got himself straight."

What the hell is he laughing at? Damn, I did just say that, didn't I? The laughter breaks the tension that had built when things turned to Scott and Kirk. Why I felt the need to push it earlier I'm not sure, and kidding myself that I was worried for Scott isn't my style. Yeah it's partly the truth, but no more that I am when any of the guys get involved. Though up until now it's never been outside our group on any serious level, even Sean and Shawn, PJ and Paul finally got their wires uncrossed and their partnerships the right way round.

There's something about James that makes me want to know what makes him tick, makes me want to know him. Yeah I wouldn't mind screwing him through the couch we're sitting on but it's more than that. A lot more.

Wonder if he'll let me call him? I'd really like to get to know him better.

****SH****

I don't believe that James gave up his bed so easily, not that I'm complaining. Kirk's been teasing for over an hour and I'm fit to burst. If I don't get him in me soon I'm gonna rupture something.

Oh come on get the fucking door open. Green light. Yes!

The moment the door bangs shut behind us I'm up against it, door handle in the back. I'm gonna feel that in the morning, but currently I couldn't give a fuck. Kirk has my hands pinned down by my sides, he's kicked my feet apart standing in between so that my thighs cradle his, his tongue is down my throat. If he wasn't holding me up, I'd be in a heap on the floor.

Oh shit. Tongue and teeth at the base of my throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but certainly enough to make the make-up girls earn their money tomorrow. Heat radiates out from where Kirk's fastened to my neck making my cock twitch even more, and my nipples harden. He knows exactly what he's doing to me; the whimper that he just dragged from my throat came simply from him scratching a nail across my left nipple.

"Scott! Come on baby, back to me for a moment." The sensations he's causing clouding it to the point where I'm barely aware of anything else. I can almost feel myself reaching for those words, using them as a ladder out of the fog in my brain. Blinking my eyes, eventually I focus on the man holding me.

He smiles wiping the dark edge from his eyes; I almost freaked the first time I saw him looking at me like that. But I know now that for him sometimes there has to be a touch of pain with his passion a touch to remind him it's real. We're apart more often then not, and if that's the price I have to pay for my relationship with him, I'm gonna pay quite happily. We've racked the frequent flyers as it is, and it's only gonna get worse with him back in the studio almost full time and me back on the road.

"Clothes off." The whip crack of his voice has me kicking my shoes off before I even register what he said. The rest of my clothes come off automatically as I watch Kirk methodically take his off. If I ever get tired of looking that body, shoot me. He knows I'm watching him, his hands have just stroked down those tattoos as he took his pants off.

"Bed." His voice catches very slightly, that almost whimper going to my cock.

The cool cotton of the sheets against my back does little to dampen the heat scoring through me as he scatters little kisses across and down my chest, paying special care to my nipples, gently biting at them before soothing his tongue across them, dragging half groans from me as I press towards him trying to keep his mouth on them.

"Kirk, please." My hands come up to touch him, just as he looks up.

"Nah uh. Scott, I brought some scarves if you want a little help?" Forcing my hands back down, I watch as he graces me with a smile that's almost total innocence. Or would be; if he hadn't just dragged a fingertip up my cock and across the head, making me close my eyes as the feelings wash over me. Fuck!

"Scotty look at me." I don't know what the sound he drew from me was, and I don't give a fuck anyway. He has to know what he does to me sitting there licking my pre-cum off his finger.

Crawling between my legs, he spreads them wider, giving him access to me as he strokes that finger over my entrance, making me shiver and moan.

"Kirk, for fuck's sake." I need him in me now!

"Easy babe, I've got you, we'll get there." That's alright for him to say, he's not the one waiting explode.

His hair brushes over me as he dips his head, making the muscles of my stomach jump and me arch up needing his touch. A noise is ripped from my throat as he softly mouths my balls it could have been his name I don't know, before his tongue moves lower flickering over my hole. Working inside. God! I'm gonna detonate.

"Please. Need. You. Now."

That smile is back as is the dark edge on it. I can't stop the shiver it causes. I may understand it but that doesn't stop that little twist of fear. A gentle touch down my side quietens the feeling almost before it takes hold as do the quick touch of lips to mine.

"All you had to do was ask baby." The words are hissed as Kirk sits back and slicks himself with spit and pre-cum. Lifting my legs up he starts to push in, the pain of entry giving away to burning heat, which almost fries my brain. He rests when his I feel his hips pressed against me for a moment giving me time to grab onto the wisps of what's left of my control.

"Kirk, do something!" Wriggling against him a little, I gasp as his cock brushes over my prostate.

"Do that again and this'll be over before it starts." His jaw clenches and I hold still. After a few moments he moves and flames start to lick through me, slowly coiling in on themselves with his every movement.

Kirk's hand encloses my cock, moving with the same restless pace as the rest of his body, his own rhythm becoming choppy, our gasps and moans coming together.

"Come on Scotty, need to feel you cum...cum for me." The desperation in his words ignites that coil inside of me and everything explodes. My cum splattering between us and over his hand as he milks me. As I tighten around him, I feel him shoot inside me, seemingly extending my own release.

As I slowly become aware of where I am, the first thing I'm actually aware of on is Kirk, licking his hand clean, smiling like the proverbial cat. Sliding gently from me, he presses his lips to mine letting me taste myself mingled with his flavour; it's something I think I'll never get used to. He pads off into the bathroom, coming back with a damp wash cloth, gently cleaning me, then himself, before dropping it in the trash.

He snuggles into me, his head on my shoulder as I reach for the quilt. Both of us are barely awake.

"Love you too, Scott." I swear my heart just stuttered at those sleepily mumbled words. I hadn't been sure that what I'd done in the ring this evening had made sense. Obviously it did. I know I have a cheesy grin plastered on my face, but I don't care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Part 4

****JH****

For once in my life, I'm happy that Lars wants to be recording at night. Kev and I have spent hours on the phone, chatting, getting to know each other. I haven't done something like that in years. It's nice. In fact it's great. He's got a wicked sense of humour, some of the pranks he talks about would put Lars to shame.

Our drummer was not amused when Kirk and I downed guitars on Monday night to watch Raw. I don't think I've heard so many Danish swear words in one sentence in a long time. Combined with the English ones, I'd sorta forgotten that he could turn the air blue like that. Being a husband and father has defiantly mellowed him out somewhat.

I wonder how he'll react to Kev? I actually don't know if he's met Scott. Of course, he knows about him, I heard about Kirk and Scott from Lars first after all. But I wonder how he'll cope face to face, well aside from the obvious crick he's gonna have in his neck. I think I'll talk to Kirk about getting Lars a footstool to stand on before we introduce him.

"Hey James, you okay?" Kirk's hand connects with my back a couple of times as he gently hits it.

"Yeah, coffee just went down the wrong way." The lyrics I'm working on now have coffee stains all over them.

"Come on, Smackdown's just about to start." We share a grin as both of us head towards the rec room - to the sound of colourful Danish in our ears. Again.

Grabbing the remote, we make ourselves comfortable.

Kev warned me when I spoke to him yesterday that this particular show wouldn't be pleasant to watch. He had in fact gone so far as to suggest that I try and get Kirk to avoid it altogether. I'm now beginning to see why. And the fact that Lars has decided to come and see what the fuss is all about isn't helping. I'm sure if Lars wasn't here Kirk would be have buried his head in my   
shoulder by now. I can feel him shaking next to me. But for some reason, tears in front of Lars are a no go these days.

I can't believe that they would do this; it's like the record company deciding that the next album cover should have a picture of me, beer in hand. In fact it's worse than that, 'cause that a shoot like that would be fairly simple. This shit is just that, complete fucking shit.

Almost to the second as the show finishes, both Kirk's and my cell phones go off. Lars rolls his eyes to heaven mutters something 'about never getting any fucking work done' and stomps off. Which would be pretty funny if I wasn't as pissed as I am.

"Yeah?" I don't stop the growl. I know it's not Kev's fault and I know he warned me but....

"You're where?" Surprise ripples through me wiping the anger right out, I can't believe they'd do that. Well, I can believe Scott would, but why'd Kev do it?

****KH****

Why did the fuck did they do that? Why in hell did he let them? Jesus fucking Christ.

I can't believe I held it together in front of Lars. I'm not even sure why I did; I just felt I had to. But I do know I'm not James and Lars' little tag along anymore, I do belong here. Scott's finally given me that and breaking down in front of Lars, giving him the ammunition to take the piss out of me is like a little betrayal of that and that's not happening.

Both James and my cells ring checking the number I go through to the bathroom, this is between Scott and I.

"Why the fuck did you let them do that to you?" It's all I can do not to scream at him, the hurt is making my voice raw and the tears I wouldn't let go of in front of Lars are now making my eyes sting.

"It's my job, babe. It's what I get paid for, I didn't have a choice." The gentleness in his tone belies the pain that I can hear. But why he's hurting I don't have a clue. Though the fact that he is thumps into me like a freight train. Me hurting is one thing, him is totally another.

"Scott what's going on? You okay" His tired chuckle goes straight to my cock, seems that all the strong emotions want to come out and fuck me up tonight.

"Yeah I'm fine, tired but fine. I'd forgotten what being on the road entailed a little. Worried about you though. I told you tonight wasn't going to be nice." Sighing to myself I acknowledge that he had, I just hadn't really listened.

"Yeah you did, I'm over reacting I suppose." No, I'm not dammit. The company he works for just mentally abused the man I love. Well actually he was abused on Tuesday, not today, but that's not the point. I hear a little half groan in my ear.

"Not really, I do know how you're feeling. I've just had a couple of days to get past it. You've just seen it. Which explains why Kev and I are both standing, chatting on our cells, waiting for our luggage in the middle of San Fran international or whatever the fuck this airport's call. Now, how do I get to you?"

I think everything just stopped. He's where? And they did what?

Oh my God.

****SH****

"Kirk? Kirk!? You still there." I couldn't have been listening to silence for more than a couple of moments, but it seemed like eons.

"Yeah, still here." He sounds dazed. Now is that a good dazed 'cause of where we are, or a bad dazed 'cause his still in shock from that shit? Both Kev and Terry had to sit on me when I saw the story lines and scripts for Smackdown. And it took both of them to convince me not to walk. And not 'cause of me necessarily. Yeah it hurt, but it's not like I haven't done it before, but 'cause of what I knew it would do to Kirk and James. Well, Kirk mainly, James is more Kev's concern.

"Hang on a coupla secs." A few moments of nothing then I can hear both Kirk and James' voices in the background, but not enough to actually get what they're saying.

"You got a driver? Driving yourself or what?" Damn that breathy excited little laugh shouldn't affect me the way it does, and certainly not in public.

"Ummm...hold on..." Kev and my turn to get our heads together.

"No driver, no hire car either." Silence again, then a quick few words and a voice I don't recognise probably Lars at a guess.

"Okay, grab a taxi and we'll make sure someone meets you when you get here." Kirk then goes on to say where they're recording and what exactly to tell the taxi driver.

Both Kev and I hang up within moments of each other, and pick up our bags.

Kev and me in a taxi, that's gonna be interesting.

Actually we don't have too much trouble finding something. Either the driver's round here are fans, or like the idea of us riding with them for whatever reason. It's a bit of squash, but we manage. Come on we traveled coach on the flight, and the taxi has a damn sight more legroom than that. As long as I get a decent bed and some decent loving later, I'm gonna be fine.

I'm seeing Kirk, what's there not to be fine about?

****KN****

Ouch! My knees are gonna feel that in the morning. Vince will not be happy if I'm limping. Actually, fuck him. After the shit he and his writers pulled with Scott on Tuesday, he's lucky he still has the NWO still working for him. If you think about it, it's not as if we exactly have to work these days, yeah it's nice, the extra money most certainly helps, but all of us are comfortable enough. Even Scott. And our names still have pull in Japan, the US is convenient, but there's always something else. As much as Vince likes to think he's the only fish in the sea, he ain't.

The taxi pulls up and some Gofer or other meets us. Who's either not impressed, or very good at hiding it if he is. We get to shown to what looks like a reception area, until you notice the big glass window with the studio on the other side of it. Gofer flips a switch allowing us to hear what's going on. It's Metallica, there's no getting away from it. A few more bells and whistles than 'Ride' or 'Master' but that sound is still them.

Scott's head's bobbing, as is mine. The grin on his face resembles that of a kid in a chocolate factory, and I'm sure mine isn't far short. Kirk must have looked up, cause suddenly he stops playing. James' head turns from the music sheet he'd been looking at, his eyes meet mine and suddenly I want in there.

A side door I hadn't noticed opens, and Kirk is in Scott's arms having the life kissed out of him. Sod anyone else. I don't blame them.

For all our hours on the phone the last few days, I really don't know where I stand with James. We've talked about everything under the sun, finding out about each other. But I don't know if we're potential friends, potential lovers or what. All I do know is that right now, I want to hold him. Take away the last strands of pain that I know are hanging round him, winding through him. What I want with James is what Scott has with Kirk, I think.

James comes through the door; smiles at Scott and Kirk glued together, shaking his head slightly.

"Kev" His voice is smooth and rough at the same time, shows how much he's been working recently. The handshake in greeting turns into a hug. A hug that should be a friendly 'how are you?' turns into something else as James borrows into my arms resting his head on my shoulder, his arms wrapped loosely round my waist, mine around his.

He lifts his head off my shoulder, blue ice fire eyes burn me for a second before his lips touch to mine, a gentle butterfly kiss before his head returns to my shoulder.

Friends or lovers I still don't know, but I do know one thing, I've just been branded. Totally.

****LU****

Fuck me if Kirk wasn't right for a change. No, that's not true either. These days, more often than not, he knows what he's talking about, I'm just not gonna tell him that. Those two, look right together there's no other way to describe it.

I don't know if James even realises it but something pretty special is going on there. Makes me a little sad in a way, I know I've got Sky and the kids, and I love them all dearly...but at one time, a long time ago....

But that was then, and this is now. You can almost see the connection between James and Kevin Nash, and I can't believe that not only do we have to put up with one wrestler in the family; it looks as though we're about to add another one.

But God help either one of them if they hurt James or Kirk, 'cause I sure won't. I'll be kicking their fucking asses from here to kingdom come.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written July 2002 and posted Sept 2002


End file.
